


Imperial

by freshywritescrap (freshiewrites)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, Character Death, CherryBlossom, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Edgepuff, Papyrus is a bitter bitch, Slavery, This doesn't start happy folks, minor fluff, not your usual Papyrus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26133175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freshiewrites/pseuds/freshywritescrap
Summary: Papyrus isn't losing anyone else.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Papyrus/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 27





	1. Don't Let Those Demons In Again

**Author's Note:**

> guys im only sort of sorry because i know so many of you will be put off by this first chapter, like i Know many of you wont read just because of that MCD tag lol
> 
> anyone that sticks around, thank you lol we're gonna have some good fun uwu
> 
> enjoy? mind the TAGS

Papyrus leaned out over the balcony, Sans’ back settled against it without a care in the world. He’d never seen his brother this relaxed, not since Papyrus had become king and the duties of real work had settled like a yoke over them both.

“They’re coming tonight, aren’t they.” He asked, plain and simple. Sans didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. The mere sadness that entered his eyes told Papyrus everything he needed to know.

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me. Not again.”

This time Sans winced, something full body and hard to witness. “I know, Paps, and I swear to the Angel if there was another option, I’d have taken it. But…”

But. Wasn’t that the word of the day, evening, month, year. But a lot of things, that went unspoken, that laid like mines between them.

But Sans had his lover, and they’d been found out. But Sans was a target, a high price over his head, and there was little Papyrus could do without making himself a target as well. 

But Sans was ready for this, would be ready until his last breath, because there was no way his older brother was dying under his watch. 

Papyrus shook his head, staring off into the crowded city he’d sworn with his life to protect, and wished he could abandon it all to keep the life of the one he cherished. 

Sans would likely survive, would likely bring those that had dared to attempt to take on a Judge before Papyrus and the Throne, and they would be punished accordingly.

But for tonight, Papyrus wept, and held Sans as close as they dared.

“I’ll be okay, Paps, you know that.” Sans said, pretending his own voice wasn’t trembling in trepidation of the thought of the night going on from this point.

Papyrus only held him tighter, glancing up at the night sky in prayer.

~.~

The next morning, Sans’ dust was found in his bed, the soul above it shimmering until it too joined the dust among the sheets. Papyrus had him buried in the garden, out around the daffodils and rosemary. His soul would feed the flowers, help them grow strong and vibrant, and Papyrus could keep him remembered as a great Judge… and a wonderful brother.

He spent a week in mourning, the city joining him in the loss of their King’s family, the kingdom's Judge, and after that time was over, they had a feast in remembrance of the life they’d shared. 

He had duties to attend to, after, but the halls felt empty. The air felt heavy, and the voices of the people seemed far away. He felt tired, oh so tired, and nothing seemed worth his very breath.

It was only when he received a letter from a neighboring kingdom that he felt a fire burn in his bones once more.

It was a threat, a barrage of words that only served to make Papyrus more and more angry the longer he read them. 

A plan formed, one of secrecy and anarchy, something deep and furious that burned as long as it needed to for it to make a difference.

He would avenge his brother.

And he’d do whatever he had to to do it.


	2. Her Highness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo new chapter!!! we get to see a bit more of whats going on, and a few new characters enter the fray!
> 
> warnings for Sans being dead, he's staying dead, sorry. and also general hurt/comfort and angst because of that :/
> 
> enjoy :D

Living in a land such as the one that Papyrus was king over was a life that was hard, but prospering. Under his rule, there were no homeless monsters living in waste, no children begging for food on the street corners, running water and if not plentiful amounts of food, then enough that no one went hungry.

He’d done his best to raise the kingdom from the ashes of what it once was. The last King had done nothing but squander his wealth, distributing it only to his own coffers. People went hungry, children starving, and Papyrus had finally had enough of it. He’d cobbled together a makeshift uprising, and together they had taken down the old, fat “king” who had never deserved the title. 

Sans had helped him. He wasn’t the Judge, not until the others had looked to Papyrus to lead them, now that the kingdom was in disarray. He had helped, as much as he was able, as Papyrus took the throne and spent endless late nights studying on decorum, the laws of their land in the greatest of detail, and how things could be run, if not should be run.

Papyrus had taken to the position, not easily, but out of hard work and perseverance he’d made the kingdom what it was today; a bustling center of commerce and a place of helping those who needed help. 

Any who needed a place to stay, who’d lost their homes due to natural detriment or because they were struggling to make ends meet, were hired on at the palace. Papyrus had no shortage of servants and cooks, because even as much as their land had grown and improved… things still happened.

Blight and drought would hit, making the crops not grow as well as predicted, leading many to harsh times in terms of money they’d made from their harvest. Cold, bitter winters made living in a small land hard on the monsters who were not accustomed to such weather, their more sturdily built neighbors giving them a place to stay warm. Robbers would come from other lands, always caught and arrested, almost always brought before the Judge, but their deeds were done, hurting the people Papyrus wanted to protect the most.

It helped a lot that a new Judge had stepped up. His name was Slim, a younger monster with sleek, but scarred bones, his disposition soft, but a dangerous aura around his soul made it clear that he would be a decent Judge, at the very least. Papyrus had asked him, one day when they were discussing how Judging would be carried out now that a new Judge had arrived, why he was so scarred. Slim had given him a sad, hollow look, and Papyrus had never said another word about it. 

Papyrus had been a bit shocked to hear from the neighboring land of Fell, their queen harsh and unusually strict, but he’d heard that under her rule, after overthrowing her husband, that things had been slowly improving. He was glad to hear it; Sans’ lover had been from Fell, which was the main reason he’d been attacked. Monsters from surrounding kingdoms looked down on Fell and its militaristic ways; Papyrus only thought they could do with a bit of softening in a few places.

The letter he’d received was one that had him gasping in shock, though he felt something like determination fill his soul.

_My Dearest Papyrus,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. In it I hope to barter a treaty of sorts, and come to an agreement as to the trade and commerce we may partake in together. You have always respected my kingdom, even when my bastard of a husband ran it to the ground. For that, I wish to bestow you a gift._

_In my possession are two slaves, both Fell natives, both enchained by their own people for attempting to rise against my late husband. I would see them be unshackled and live with you, in your palace, and perhaps help with the loss of your brother._

_I wish you well, my King, and I hope we may do well for each other in the coming days of peace. And, if it comes to it, in the coming days of war._

There was more, and it was signed “Her Highness Toriel”, leaving Papyrus with a desire to visit Fell’s capital city of Snowdin to thank her for her bravery and kindness, even as the letter was succinct as it was. 

He wondered about these slaves, about their lives they’d led up to this point. They’d both worked together to overthrow the mad tyrant of Fell, but had been enslaved instead. It made his soul ache in his chest; he didn’t doubt their strength. What he doubted was that they had rallied enough brave monsters to help their cause. Fell had been a poor, hard kingdom, and when the tyrant had been alive, there was very little done that he didn’t know about.

The pure fear would have kept people quiet. But for these two to decide to do something, despite the obvious consequences they’d face… He could only hope they were in decent enough condition to get around on their own. He had work for monsters as brave and foolhardy as them. 

Still, he’d need to contact Toriel in return, letting her know his intentions, and what he planned for the coming days. 

A war took a long time to plan. Even longer to execute. But at least he knew he had another people at his side, ready to fight with him. 

It helped ease the sting of Sans’ absence, knowing that he had people with him. The servants of the palace still gave him sad looks, even this many weeks after what happened. He still felt the grief, picking at the scars on his soul like hungry fingers, but he didn’t let the pain keep him from remembering his goal.

He would kill the King responsible for his brother’s death. No matter what he had to do, to do it. 


	3. Can I Be Honest?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooo next chapter!!!
> 
> warnings: mentions of branding, mentions of cruel imprisonment, mentions of alienation from your own people
> 
> enjoy???

The sun was setting over the far off mountains as Papyrus’ caravan came over the hill, riding down the slope to the large, imposing castle that laid just below. Papyrus was staring from the horse he rode, his soldiers surrounding him at every side as they came up to the large gate that kept any from entering that was not welcome. With a bellowing noise, the gate opened, Papyrus motioning his horse to ride forward and into the courtyard of the residing Queen Toriel’s palace. 

There she waited for him, standing just at the stairs that led up to the main entrance, her own servants standing at her sides. They were dressed in simple, but effective armor, as well as red ribbons of lace that signified what, Papyrus didn’t know. It may have been some sort of declaration of rank, seeing as how the tallest, a fish woman with bright red hair and a gnarly scar in her right eye, was wearing the most armor, and the most bands. 

She stepped forward as Papyrus dismounted, his boots clicking on the stone path as she stood before him, staring him down in what would have looked to anyone else as anger. Then, her arm came up and thumped her chest twice, a sign of respect that Papyrus happily returned.

“Hey, Paps. Its good to see you again.” Undyne said in a low voice, Papyrus nodding once. 

“Indeed, it has been quite a long time.” Turning to the Queen, who was staring on in mild amusement, he raised his hand in greeting. 

“My Queen Toriel, thank you for inviting me to your kingdom. I’m sure we have much to discuss!”

Toriel laughed at that, the sound rich, but slightly pained. “Perhaps, old friend. First we should head inside; the nights grow chilly these days.” And with that she turned, heading back up the steps as Undyne ran to step behind her, taking up position of head guardsman. Papyrus could respect it, guiding his soldiers on where to house their horses and which entrance to take. 

Slim stood with him, having rode near the back of the caravan, in his Judge’s robes that ended just above his ankles. “You know the fish?” Slim asked, and Papyrus could only grin.

“She was an old childhood friend. We’d sneak across borders to fight in the rivers to the East.”

Slim stared at him for a moment, then shook his head, starting for the ornamental doors. Papyrus smiled, watching as he went before starting up the stairs himself, taking two at a time.

~.~

Toriel had led him and his Judge about the castle, explaining that her own Judge, a young skeleton by the name of Braise actually, had been sick the night prior and hadn’t been fit for polite company. Papyrus wondered at that; just how many skeletons were judges these days?

But still, he was grateful for the opportunity to talk to her before they finally came to the final set of doors. They were a deep amber brown, carved with the signs of a traitor, of filth and dishonor. 

It hurt Papyrus to see it, knowing what was inside.

“I would have had them placed in better quarters, but…” Toriel paused, staring at the doors with a disdainful grimace. “The people wouldn’t hear it. These two have been branded with the sign of a traitor, my dear Papyrus. That does not go away lightly here.”

Papyrus nodded. He understood; it was a Judge’s job to do the actual judgment, and if these two had been found guilty of deceit in their souls, whoever had been Judge at the time would have had no other choice.

To disobey the crown was unheard of, for a Judge. It simply wasn’t done, and so these two brothers, as Toriel had told him, had to bear the full brunt of their punishment… as well as the disconnection and banishment from their own people. 

He could feel the pain and suffering coming through the door. “You’ve been taking care of them though, yes?”

Toriel nodded, looking offended. “Of course! They have a room to bathe and beds to sleep in. I bring them food myself, as the servants aren’t permitted to do it.” She swallowed, glancing back at the doors. “I’m not sure how they survived living under my husband’s reign.”

Papyrus could agree, but decidedly kept his thoughts to himself as Toriel turned to him, offering a large key. He took it without a word, and with a pat on the shoulder for good luck, she turned and headed gracefully back down the hall.

Staring hard at the door, Papyrus took the key in hand, and with the other gave a mighty knock. 

There was the sound of shuffling deep from inside, Papyrus listening intently as whispered words were shared, before a cracked, but fierce voice called out. “Who is it!”

“The King of the Talelands! I’ve come to bargain!”

There was silence, the sound of it deafening before the same voice croaked out a simple “Come in then, and bargain.”

Taking the permission he was granted, Papyrus took the key and fit it into the lock, turning the handle with a loud creak and opening the door. The sight the fell before him was sickening, had he not been prepared for it.

A tall skeleton was standing, slightly hunched over and yet with as much anger as he could put into every motion and expression Papyrus could see. The skeleton was standing over a shorter skeleton, who was sitting on a pillow, staring up at him with wide eyes, something like primal fear in them. They both had red eyelights, the tint something like marrow as they stared him down in defiance. 

“Has the tyrant sent you to take us as a gift?” The taller said, spitting the word. The shorter winced, hand on his brother’s femur tightening. Neither of them had any real clothes to speak of, only rags that barely covered their dingy bones. 

“Not at all.” Papyrus said, careful. “Her Highness has offered you both as a peace treaty.”

The range of emotion that went over the taller’s face was something to witness, before it settled into anger, anger and something like fear once more. 

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

Papyrus smiled, bitter and sympathetic. “You don’t. But either you let my men wash you up and join us for dinner, or you stay here and die as traitors to your own people. Which will it be?”

The confusion was palpable, the shorter skeleton seemingly shocked by his words, but Papyrus only had eyes for the taller. 

“You… you want us to join you for a dinner? In the palace of the tyrant? Who are you?”

The repetition of the question might have bothered Papyrus on some days. In fact, having to repeat himself was a bit of a pet peeve, and he really didn’t enjoy feeling as though he wasn’t listened to. 

This was a much different question than the first time it’d been asked. This wasn’t a query of his identity. This was a question of his sanity. Something that made the anger in his soul rise up, but not towards these two.

“My name is Papyrus. I am King of a land not far from here, and the Tyrant is dead.” Quirking a brow, he smiled. “Now, what about that bargain?”

**Author's Note:**

> if you screamed in pain, please leave a comment :)


End file.
